


The Fitting

by NuwandaSnicket



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Ballet Dancer Dean, Dancer Dean, Designer Castiel, Fluff, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-02 22:23:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5265983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuwandaSnicket/pseuds/NuwandaSnicket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak was the costume designer for the New York City Ballet.  It had been two years since he'd gotten the job.  Two years since he'd first met Dean Winchester, the company's premiere danseur.  Two years since he'd fallen in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I wrote Dean as blonde. Younger Jensen was pretty blonde. Deal with it. :P
> 
> There may be an epilogue. We'll see.

“Fuck!”

Castiel swore under his breath as he stabbed himself with his needle for what had to be at least the eighth time today. He tossed the costume aside in frustration, only half finished. Bringing his thumb to his mouth, he sucked at the tiny pinprick of blood. It wouldn’t do to get blood on any of the costumes…..especially this one. Everything might not be white, like it was in last season’s production of _‘Swan Lake’_ (or _any_ production of _‘Swan Lake’_ , for that matter) but this particular costume WAS white, and though he doubted one drop of blood would be noticeable, he wasn’t taking the chance.

Cas heaved a sigh. He was sick of sticking his fingers….sick of sewing. In all honesty, he should be done for the day. All the other costumers had left by now, the shop mostly closed down. But Cas…..Cas had one final appointment. And he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

“Yo.”

Cas looked up. Charlie Bradbury was in the doorway, flaming red hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, huge grin on her face. Despite the day he’d been having, he couldn’t help but smile. Charlie had that effect on people. “Hey, Charlie.”

“What’re you still doing here, man?” She plopped down on the nearest stool, grabbing a nearby container of sequins and beginning to fiddle with it. “Doesn’t your day end at four?”

“What are YOU still doing here,” he dodged the question. Now that his finger had stopped bleeding, he picked up the costume again and resumed sewing on sequins. 

“We had a problem with the lighting.” Charlie was the director of lighting and set design there at the theatre. “The director decided he wanted to change some colors. It ended up taking over an hour and a half for him to make up his damn mind.” 

“That sucks,” Cas’ tone was sympathetic. He looked to where Charlie was playing with the sequins and swatted her hand. “Stop fiddling with that.”

She stuck out her tongue at him. “Brat.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“Anyway, you didn’t answer my question. What’re you still doing here?”

Cas resolutely didn’t look at her, eyes on his sewing as he answered, “I have a final appointment.”

He could practically hear her brows shoot up. “An appointment? What appointment could make Castiel Novak stay two hours after closing?” But there was a mere second’s pause before she worked it out. “ _Oooooooh_ …” He shut his eyes tightly at the ridiculously pleased tone in her voice. “HE’S coming in, isn’t he?”

“I have no idea who you’re talking about.” Cas kept his voice steady and politely disinterested. 

“Oh you LIAR. Like we’re not talking about Mister Tall, Freckled, and Flexible.”

At that, Cas couldn’t help it anymore; his head dropped to the table, his folded arms, and he groaned. “Oh my God.”

“Dean Winchester,” Charlie grinned. “You know you think about him all the time.”

“Shut up.” The words were muffled, but it was so beyond true, and they both knew it. Charlie had caught on to his crush almost as soon as he did and luckily enough, she was reliable. She may tease him mercilessly but she only did so when they were alone. Besides, Charlie had the hots for Dean’s dance partner, Cindy, so it’s not like Cas couldn’t tease her right back. The only problem was that teasing didn’t bother Charlie.

He felt a tap on his head. “So, what’s the deal? Why didn’t he come in earlier?”

Cas raised his head from off his arms so he could look at Charlie once again. “He had something going on at home. His little brother was visiting. Today was his last day there.” Cas couldn’t help but smile when he remembered the way Dean’s eyes had glowed as he relayed that information. Clearly he and his brother were extremely close.

Cas realized Charlie was grinning. “What,” he asked, shifting self-consciously.

She shook her head. “You’re _adorable_.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“No.” Having put the sequins away, she was now messing around with his measuring tape. It was like taking care of a child. “So you offered to stay late?”

“Of course. I don’t mind.”

Charlie grinned. “I bet you don’t. Get Mr. Bendy in here after hours, all by yourself? Run your hands along his inseam as you measure his tights?”

That was just too far, the mental image too much for Castiel’s brain to handle. He dove across the table, snatching his measuring tape out of her hands and smacking the side of her head in the process. She didn’t care, simply burst into laughter. “You know you want to!”

“I know no such thing.” He rolled the tape back into its neat little circle, scowling at her. “Except that you should have a career writing porn, not doing theatre.”

“Did someone say ‘porn’?”

At the sound of the new yet so familiar voice, Castiel’s head snapped about to look at the doorway, eyes wide. There he was, Dean Winchester. Those freckles….they dusted across his nose, somehow making those beautiful green eyes glow even brighter. And his smile….the brow arched teasingly, wanting to be let in on the joke….it all made Cas want to melt into a puddle….and yet he felt like his heart would leap through his chest. Had Dean heard them talking about him? Had he heard? He looked to Charlie, eyes wild, and she gave a tiny shake of her head. No. He breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Hello, Dean.” His voice was rougher than usual with nerves. He cleared his throat. Not that it did much good. His voice was so low and gravelly to begin with. He knew it could be off-putting to some people. Not that most of the girls in the corps seemed to mind. They actually seemed to like it. Now if only he could get the men to feel the same. One man in particular.

That man was currently smiling at him, that warm smile that always put even the grouchiest, most standoffish people at ease, those green eyes crinkled at the corners. Fuck, he was so beautiful. “Hey, Cas.”

God, Cas loved the way his name rolled off Dean’s tongue in that rich baritone. Not many people used that nickname….Charlie and a handful of others. But it never sounded as good as when Dean said it. He couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks for coming in.”

Dean shook his head. “Thank YOU. I really appreciate it, you staying late this way.”

Cas could feel his cheeks flush and he ducked his head to hide a happy smile, shaking his head ‘no’. “I’m happy to do it.”

It was quiet….no, not quiet. Silent. He dared to look up at Dean and was taken aback. The man was regarding him with a look of such complete and utter….fondness…..that it made Cas melt. Those green eyes were filled with warmth, and Cas couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Ahem.”

Both men jumped, startled at the sound of Charlie’s cough. She was looking at them both with amusement. Cas wanted to kill her. He could feel his face burning. He risked a glance at Dean and nearly jumped in shock. Dean’s cheeks were red as well. It was ridiculously becoming on him. Of course it was. Castiel knew that when HE blushed, his face went as red as a stop sign. Dean somehow managed to keep the blush contained to his face, a pretty pink flush staining his cheeks. No bright red staining his forehead or neck. Oh. But then there was that. The tips of his ears were neon red.

Cas thought it was Goddamn adorable.

“Ah-EM.” Charlie cleared her throat again, louder this time. Both men jumped, attention once again turning to the tiny redhead. She couldn’t have looked more entertained. 

“What’s your problem, Bradbury?”

Cas glanced at Dean enviously. The blonde had recovered from his embarrassment so easily and was now looking at Charlie with his arms folded across his chest. 

“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Good.” Dean gave her a playful shove. “Then why don’t you get the hell out of here and let Cas and me get to work?”

Charlie laughed and backed away, both hands raised in the air as if in surrender. “Okay, okay…I know when I’m not wanted.” She paused in the doorway long enough to wink at Cas. “Behave, you two.” And then, sparing one final grin for Cas’ reignited blush, she was gone., leaving the two men alone.

There was a silence between them as they looked at each other. The air had an electricity to it, a slightly nervous undercurrent. But it wasn’t a bad feeling. No, even at that moment, the corners of Dean’s mouth turned up in a tiny smile. “So,” he said. “Guess we should get started, huh.”

Cas nodded. “Guess so.” He gave himself an inward shake. _Get control of yourself, Novak_ , he scolded. _This is what you do_. He couldn’t falter now. Of all the people he didn’t want to mess up in front of, it was Dean. He gestured. “This way. To the table. And, ah…” all of Castiel’s attention was on the table, his back to Dean as he finished “….take your pants off. We’re going to start with the tights.”

There was the barest of pauses before Dean answered “okay,” his voice so casual that Cas was envious. He was a wreck over the _thought_ of Dean half naked. How could Dean be so confidant when he was the one stripping?

Castiel unhooked Dean’s costume from the clothing rack and seated himself on his work stool. He was nervous as hell. Trying to be polite, he averted his eyes before Dean dropped his pants but he was only human; there was no way he could help peeking. Heat immediately rushed through him, fighting for dominance between his face and his cock, the rush of blood making his head spin. 

Dean was still in his dance belt. It cut high on his hips, and Cas knew if Dean turned around, the fine globes of his perfect ass would be bare, exposed to the chill air of the wardrobe room. But his eyes were irrevocably drawn to the way that the belt clung to and supported the large bulge of Dean’s sizeable cock. Cas had known Dean was well endowed (those tights left very little to the imagination) but the dance belt was totally different from tights, more intimate. And all that bare skin.

Dean saw Cas staring and hesitated; his hands fidgeted with the thin straps of the dance belt. “I’m sorry….I thought it would be better to wear it if I was trying on costumes….”

He was right, of course he was right. It didn’t mean Cas could handle the sight of it. But then he noticed Dean’s face. He was blushing. Dean was blushing beneath the attention Cas was giving him. But was it for the same reason Cas could feel his own cheeks reddening?

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, handing Dean the tights. “You’re right.”

Dean quirked a brow as he stepped into the tights, carefully pulling them on. “What’re you sorry for?”

Cas was resolutely not looking up. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

There was a brief pause and then a small burst of laughter. “Don’t worry about it, Cas.” His voice dropped an octave, getting sultry. “I know how sexy the dance belt is.”

Cas choked; Dean grinned down at him. “Gotcha there, don’t I.”

And Cas couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh boy, do you. So sexy.”

Dean wrinkled his nose. “It’s like an awkward speedo-thong.”

Cas raised a brow, feeling daring as he fired back “but with infinitely better support.”

Both of Dean’s brows shot up at that. “Why, Castiel Novak!” His voice was exaggeratedly scandalized, and Cas couldn’t help but blush. Still, he played it casual, shrugging a shoulder.

“Hey, I’m a costumer. I notice these things.” He reached for Dean’s waist and then paused, looking questioningly up at Dean. “With your permission?”

Dean gave a tiny smile at the formality of the request, and nodded. “Go for it, Cas.”

Ever so gently, Cas placed his hands on Dean’s hips. He thought he felt a tiny shiver, but he was probably imagining it. Anyway, now was not the time to focus on Dean’s hips….Dean’s wonderful, delicious hips, with their amazing hipbones and _concentrate, Cas, concentrate_. Now it was time to focus. Now it was time to sew.

The tights fit like a dream. They should. Cas had been outfitting the New York City Ballet for five years now, and Dean had been there when he had arrived. It had taken mere seconds for Cas to fall for the green eyed beauty, and honestly he often wondered if the feelings were reciprocated. That first day they had seen each other, the spark that flew between them when their eyes met….had Dean felt that, too?

Cas looked up at Dean and was taken aback to see that Dean was looking down at him, watching him. His hands froze, and Dean smiled. “How’s it going?”

As always, that smile had an astounding effect, sending warmth flying through every inch of him. He smoothed out the front of Dean’s tights, dangerously close to his groin, and reveled in the sharp intake of breath it elicited. Dean’s eyes went wide, and butterflies flew through Cas’ stomach. Maybe there was something there after all.

“Good,” he said. “These seem about fine. Maybe take them in a little bit on this side.” He gave the left side a gentle tug. “Right…..here.” And carefully he slipped a pin in to mark the spot. “Now.” Cas straightened up. “Onto the top.” Grabbing the tunic off the table, he offered it to Dean. “Oh, wait. Your shirt. Take off your shirt.”

Dean grinned. “Ooh, gonna order me around, huh. I like it.” Cas could feel his cheeks go crimson in about three seconds.

“Just do it, you brat.”

Laughing, Dean complied, tossing his shirt onto the table and taking the tunic from Castiel’s hands. He held it up in front of him, looking it over. “It’s got green in it,” he commented. Cas winced as Dean tugged the tunic on over his head rather than undoing the fastenings in the back, but it went easily. Hmm. He’d have to check on that. “Strange for it to have color,” Dean commented, adjusting the top. “Usually you guys like to put me in white.”

“THEY like to,” Cas interrupted, then seemed to catch himself, cheeks coloring. But Dean wasn’t about to let that one go.

“What?”

Cas was pink, and steadfastly not looking at Dean, but he took a deep breath and answered.

“I’m not solely in charge of designing your costumes. I have to work with the choreographer. This way we can make sure the principal dancers will stand out and make the sort of impact they should. That’s why you and Cindy spend so much time in white.”

Dean understood. “So that we pop out among all the other mixed colors.”

Castiel nodded. “Yes.” And his brow tensed again, voice growing frustrated once more as he spoke. “But that doesn’t mean your entire costume has to be white. I’ve always wanted to have some green in there to bring out the color of your eyes---“ he froze as the depth of what he’d said sank in, but he couldn’t stop his head from snapping up so his wide-eyes could meet Dean’s gaze. Those green eyes looked very much the same as Cas’: wide in absolute shock. Cas couldn’t handle it; he quickly looked back to his work.

It was a minute more before Dean finally managed to speak. “Well, that’s too bad….but the audience would be so far away,” he spoke reassuringly, trying to make Cas feel better. “Pretty sure no one would know.” 

“ _I_ would know,” Cas said softly. And because his gaze was lowered, focused on his work, he didn’t see Dean smile.

The tunic seemed to fit pretty damn well, too, despite the fact that Dean had been able to pull it on over his head. Maybe take it in a little at the top….and he’d have to make sure Dean knew not to pull it on and off like that. He stuck a few pins in it, marking off where it could be taken in, but for the most part, it looked fine. Still, he gave it a good once-over, his hands running over Dean’s chest and down his stomach. There, he was greeted with something he did not expect. Dean was hard. The tights made that perfectly obvious.

Cas couldn’t help it: he gasped. His eyes immediately went to Dean's. Both men were bright red. Cas felt terrible. "No,” he hurried, “it’s just….it’s not you. It’s a perfectly normal reaction to being touched this way," Cas looked away, trying to will away his own arousal. He just had to get some space between the two of them and this would all go away. Dean would calm down and things would go back to normal. Or as normal as they could be after this had happened. Cas knew he would never forget this. 

"No,” Dean’s voice startled Castiel out of his thoughts. “No, it’s not that. It’s you." 

Cas' head snapped up. He looked at Dean, jaw agape. “I….what?” he asked weakly.

“Seriously?” Dean’s voice was soft, cheeks still pink, and he seemed nervous. It was an incredibly strange look on him. Dean was always so damn confident. “”You never noticed.” Cas shook his head wordlessly. Dean smiled shyly. “The day you got hired. The very first time I saw you. I knew. I knew you were special.” He huffed a quiet laugh and looked away, shaking his head. “Sounds silly, but it’s true. And I’ve had the dumbest crush on you ever since.”

Cas could do nothing but stare, dumbfounded. “You…..really?”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh at Cas’ tone of voice. "Come on, man…you must have noticed. Every dance I dance is for you." His eyes were warm, tiny crinkles at the corners that were impossibly endearing. "It’s always for you." Castiel didn't know what to say. He simply stared into those green eyes, so warm and beautiful. And yet beside that warmth there were nerves there. Dean was afraid Castiel was going to turn him down. As if he could. As if there had ever been the slightest chance that Cas could turn him down.

Before Cas could think about it too much, talk himself down from such a forward action, he had both arms around Dean’s neck and he was kissing him with everything he had.

For a moment Dean was frozen, and Castiel was worried he had overstepped his bounds. Then Dean’s arms were enfolding him. He felt a hand slip into his hair and tug gently, and he pulled away from Dean. The blonde let out a tiny whimper of disappointment as the kiss was broken and Cas laughed breathlessly, smiling as he met Dean’s eyes.

“Me, too,” he said. Dean’s brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, then a sort of hopefulness lit up his eyes. Cas didn’t hesitate….he gave Dean what he needed. “I like you, too.”

At those words, Dean’s face really DID light up, that happiness spreading all the way to his voice as he asked "really?" 

Cas nodded. A grin spread across his face. "Why do you think your costumes are always so much nicer than everyone else's?"

Dean’s eyes widened in surprise and then he laughed, head tipping back as he did so. Cas smiled, pleased at the reaction. Dean’s laughter was beautiful, rich and deep and rolling over his skin. Cas just wanted to wrap it around himself like a blanket. 

Then that emerald gaze returned to Cas, that brilliant smile once again gracing the brunette. “I thought I was just lucky.”

Cas ducked his head to hide his blush. “No. I just like you best.” Dean laughed again and Cas’ smile grew. _God_ , he loved that sound. He gestured to Dean’s tunic. “A sequin came loose here, do you mind…?”

Dean shook his head. “Not at all.” 

Cas grabbed his needle and thread. He placed a hand on Dean’s thigh with slightly more confidence this time, steadying Dean as he carefully began to stitch the loose sequin back on.

“Well, you seem to have gotten the fit pretty close.”

“Yes,” Cas agreed happily. “I have very few adjustments to make. I mean, the shirt needs a few, but the tights fit pretty damn perfectly.”

“And why is that.” There was a smile to Dean’s voice that Cas didn’t quite understand, but then the dancer was continuing. “Spend a lot of time checking out my ass?”

The response was instantaneous. Cas yanked the needle too hard and the thread snapped, the sequins going flying. He stared up at Dean with wide eyes. Dean stared back, surprised, then he burst into laughter. Cas could feel himself blushing. “Yes.”

If Dean had looked surprised before, it had nothing on his expression now. “……what?”

Castiel’s face was aflame. “Yes, I check you out when you’re onstage.” There was a bit of a bite to his voice; he didn’t like feeling backed against a wall this way. “Happy?”

There was a slight pause before Dean answered. “Very.” But there was no smugness, no self-satisfaction to his voice, and when Cas dared to take a look at his face, it was very serious. “Because I’ve gotta tell you, Cas….I spend a lot of my time at the theatre wondering when the hell it’ll be my turn to go down to the costume department and see _you_.”

Castiel stared at Dean. His heart was pounding; he was filled with hope, a kind of hope he had never known. This was Dean. Dean wouldn’t tease him about something so important. And even now, just the way Dean was looking at him….the uncertainty and nervousness in his eyes as he waited for Castiel’s response.

Cas dared to give a shy smile, finally speaking up. “The feeling is mutual.”

His risk was worth it for the way that Dean’s eyes lit up at the response. “Really?”

Cas was filled with joy at the look on Dean’s face, the realization that he hadn’t been alone in his pining all this time, was not alone in his feelings. He nodded, a smile breaking across his face, cheeks flushing ever so slightly as he answered “Really.” God, he almost couldn’t breathe for all the happy butterflies running through him. He was smiling so big that his cheeks hurt. “Well….” It was hard to get a coherent thought in his head, let alone say it aloud. “…..would you like to go out to dinner?” Then realization hit him. “Oh, wait. You guys are on a special diet, aren’t you.” He felt stupid. Dancers ate differently than the rest of them. How dumb to ask Dean out when they probably ate at different places.

But Dean was shaking his head. “Screw that.” His tone was adamant. “This is a special day. I'm having a cheeseburger.” 

Cas couldn’t help the startled laugh. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so happy. Dean was grinning at him. Clearly he felt the same way.

“Well,” Cas set aside his needle. “Let’s get you out of these clothes, shall we?”

Dean’s brows shot up, and he grinned. “Why, Mr. Novak, how very forward of you.”

Castiel blushed yet again, but he was growing used to Dean by now. “Shut up. Ass.” Dean just laughed. Cas began carefully helping Dean undress so as not to disturb where he had marked the places that had to be taken in, carefully undoing the catches and zipper on the back of Dean’s tunic. He dared to run one fingertip lightly down Dean’s spine and delighted in the way Dean shivered. “Here, give me that.” He took the tunic from Dean, who was staring at him as though struck dumb by the action, and then tossed Dean’s jeans at him. “Get your sexy ass dressed.”

That got another laugh. “Sexy ass, huh. I like it.”

“Good.” Cas tugged on his jacket and wrapped his blue scarf around his neck. “Now let’s go find a place to eat.”

Shrugging on his own jacket, Dean joined Castiel with a smile on his face. “Yes, sir.”

Shaking his head in amusement, Cas headed to the door, holding it open for Dean. He honestly didn’t know how things could get any better.

 

**~*~**

 

Castiel woke up the next morning in an unfamiliar bed. There was a warm body draped over him, a head of sandy blonde hair tucked up under his chin. Memories of the night before flashed back to him. Sitting in the restaurant with Dean, the two of them laughing merrily together. It had turned out to be more than just a mutual attraction….they had gotten along splendidly. Dean wasn’t just charming, he was a wonderful conversationalist, witty and smart, and Cas had thoroughly enjoyed every minute of their evening together.

Thus it had come as no surprise that, when Dean had invited him home, Cas had accepted without question. They had tumbled into bed immediately, Dean’s graceful hands quickly divesting Castiel of his clothes. They hadn’t had sex. Dean hadn’t even pushed for it, which Cas had been incredibly impressed and touched by. The man was a gentlemen, not going for the gold on the first date. No, instead he had pulled Cas atop him, wrapping those beautiful bow legs around the brunette, and taken his cock in hand. Cas had gasped at that. Dean gave signs of not just wanting Cas in control but of wanting to submit to him, to take care of him alone. It was ridiculously, impossibly sexy, and It had taken mere seconds before Cas had taken Dean in hand and was stroking him in kind. 

Dean’s head had tipped back in a moan, exposing that long throat, and Cas hadn’t been able to resist kissing it, nipping it. _Shit_. He looked now to see if he had left a mark and yes, there was a purple bruise just above Dean’s collarbone. He hoped Dean wouldn’t be mad about that. He doubted it. Dean had just been too sweet about everything. He was wild and demanding, but still thoroughly considerate of Castiel’s wants and needs. _God_ , did Cas hope this was more than a one-time thing.

There was a quiet sound, almost a mewl, and Dean moved. Cas held his breath as the blonde shifted, his face now visible as he stretched, arms over his head. He blinked suddenly, green eyes hazy and disoriented and reminding Cas so much of a sleepy kitten that he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Good morning.”

“Mmph,” Dean managed. “Mornin’.”

“Did you sleep well?” But Dean was yawning now, one hand covering his mouth. God, he really did look like a kitten. Cas was melting. Finished yawning now, Dean looked to Cas and gave a little nod.

“You?”

Cas nodded back. “Your bed’s comfy.”

Dean smiled. “Good. I’m hoping you’ll be spending a lot more time in it.”

Cas felt his heart leap. Did Dean mean…..was he just talking about sex, or…

Dean was clearly concerned by the hesitation; he frowned. “Did you not want to go out with me?” His voice was hesitant, nervous. “I thought…” But he got no farther, for Castiel was kissing him, hands cupping his face. Dean let out a surprised “mmph!”, staring in shock at Cas when he finally pulled away.

“Yes,” Cas said, voice breathless. “ _Yes_.”

The joy that spread over Dean’s face was too much to handle. Cas felt his heart start to beat faster, fluttering. He felt like he could fly. He only realized that he had pinned Dean beneath him when he felt one of those gorgeous bowed legs wrap around his waist as Dean pulled him closer, kissing him again.

“Thank you,” Dean whispered. Cas shook his head, exasperated.

“Don’t need to thank me. Ass.”

“You’re the ass….ass.”

Cas couldn’t help but chuckle. “Your comebacks need a lot of work.”

“Oi. Shut up.” Dean ran his fingers through Castiel’s messy hair. “Do you have to be at the theatre today?”

Cas shook his head. “No. I finished fitting everyone but you.”

“Oh.” Dean looked disappointed. “Well…..will you come with me anyway?”

Cas stared at Dean. His heart was pounding away with happiness. He could see Dean beginning to look nervous again at his lack of response so he nodded, and found that once he started, he couldn’t stop, head going rapidly up and down. “Yes. Yes, I can do that.”

Dean’s eyes lit up. “Really? You wouldn’t be bored?”

“I love watching you dance.” Cas blushed slightly at the admission. His work took place downstairs…..or it was supposed to. But there had been the odd time that he had snuck up to the theatre to watch the rehearsals.

Dean looked surprised, but then his smile grew. “I thought I’d seen you in the auditorium before.”

Cas knew his cheeks were pink. He wished yet again that he blushed as prettily as Dean. Hopefully Dean liked the way he looked, anyway. “Yeah, well, I like to watch you.”

Dean cupped his cheek, one thumb stroking the burning skin. “You look cute when you blush,” he murmured.

Cas felt surprise strike him like lightening. He had always blushed awkwardly and he knew it. Yet Dean seemed to like it. “I look ridiculous.”

“Adorable.”

Cas opened his mouth to argue but Dean silenced him with a kiss and all objections died on his lips. He stared at Dean, who was smiling at him. “So…..you wanna get breakfast before we go? I’d cook for us here, but I only have really wussy rabbit food.” His tone was apologetic.

“That’s okay. I’ll eat whatever.”

“Cas….believe me. You don’t wanna eat this crap.” Dean stroked Castiel’s brown hair again, then gently tugged a lock of it. “So how bout we get up, take a shower, then find a place to eat. Someplace with good food for you, but that’ll accommodate my…” he wrinkled his nose, but a smile was quirking up the corner of his lips. “…..unique diet.”

Cas couldn’t help a chuckle. “Okay.” He paused. “…..can we shower together?” His tone was hopeful, and Dean laughed.

“Of course we can. Wouldn’t have it any other way. Come on.” Dean patted Cas’ butt, delighting in the ‘eep’ that the action elicited. “Get up. We don’t have a ton of time before rehearsal.”

Cas obediently rolled off of Dean, letting him up. He watched the blonde head move down the hall, loving the sight of those dancer’s muscles moving so gracefully, until Dean disappeared into what was presumably the bathroom. Sure enough, he could hear the shower turning on, and seconds later, Dean poked his head out the door.

“You coming?” he asked. Cas just stared at him as his thoughts washed over him. “What?” Dean smiled. “What is it?”

Cas shook his head. “Nothing.” _I could very easily fall in love with you_ , he silently thought. And he knew it was going to happen.

A look came over Dean’s face, as though somehow he could read Castiel’s thoughts, as though he understood exactly what the man was thinking. His face softened, smile becoming gentle, eyes warm. “I know,” he said. Cas’ brow furrowed; he wanted to ask what Dean meant, but the danseur simply offered a hand, insisting “come join me.”

And in the shower, slick bodies pressed together as they kissed, Cas knew without a doubt that Dean felt the same way. It was written in every touch of his hands, every brush of his lips. It was written in his eyes. _I could fall in love with you_ , Dean said, without saying anything at all.

And seeing that look in those gorgeous green eyes, Castiel knew for the first time what true happiness was.

 

**~fin~**


	2. Epilogue

Dean trudged wearily up the stairs to the third floor apartment. _Their_ third floor apartment. He smiled at the thought. Some days, the knowledge that Cas would be waiting for him at home was all that got him through the tough workouts or harsh reviews. 

Not that Cas was home before him every day. Some days Cas was the one working late, and some days they came home together. Those days were honestly Dean’s favorite….walking home hand in hand, laughing together. But it was also nice to come home to Castiel’s beautiful smile and sparkling blue eyes.

He pushed open the door, immediately hit with a wave of hot air, more than welcome after the cold of outside. “I’m home,” he called, shucking off his jacket. “Cas?”

“In here.” The voice sounded distant, despite the relatively small size of the apartment. Dean followed the noise into the living room and stopped dead in the doorway. Not from surprise or anything like that (the sight he was greeted with was one he was beyond used to by now). No, he stopped because he had to. 

The floor of the entire room was covered in fabric. Piles and piles of satiny, shimmering fabric of every kind, and there in the very middle of it all sat Castiel. The man had his sketchbook in his lap, covered in designs for costumes for the upcoming season. He was smiling up at Dean as if the danseur was his entire world. Dean felt warmth fill him. Cas had been looking at him like that for years now, ever since they had begun dating, but he would never get used to it.

“Hello, Dean.” 

“Hey, Cas.” Dean looked at the swathes of fabric surrounding Cas and looked up at the man with amusement. “Got enough fabric?”

“Oh, shut up.” Cas’ voice was good-natured; he shoved aside a pile uncaringly, tugging another into his lap and beginning to fold it. “How was rehearsal?”

“Good. Long.”

“I’m sure it was.” Cas looked up at Dean, taking in his wet hair, and frowned. “You showered at the theatre?” Dean nodded. “But I like scrubbing you down after rehearsal.” He sounded so ridiculously disappointed that Dean couldn’t help but laugh.

“I know. I like that, too. But there’s something I want to do and I didn’t want to be all gross and sweaty when I do it.”

Cas’ brow arched, intrigued. “Do?” he echoed. Dean nodded, nervousness overcoming him. He reached into his pocket, fingers fumbling with the small box there, finally managing to pull it out. When he opened it and sank to his knees, he could hear Castiel’s intake of breath.

“Castiel Novak….will you marry me?”

He didn’t know why his stomach had been in knots….mere seconds passed before his back slammed into the floor and Castiel was on top of him, their lips pressed together in a passionate kiss. Dean slipped his hands into Cas’ hair, clutching at the silky strands.

The kiss lasted until neither could breathe, Cas finally pulling away to gasp “yes!”

Dean cupped Cas’ face, eyes alight with hope. “Yes?”

Cas nodded his head. His smile set his whole face aglow. “Yes!” He pressed forward for another kiss and Dean rolled them over so Cas was beneath him. That brown hair looked amazing surrounded by the multitude of colorful fabric, and Dean couldn't help but laugh. Being married to Cas meant he’d be surrounded by fabric for the rest of his life. But if having Cas meant dealing with fabric everywhere, he would gladly take it, and much worse. He couldn't imagine life without Cas.

"What." Cas was smiling at him. "What're you smiling at?"

Dean shook his head. "Nothing. I just love you."

Cas smiled. "I love you, too," he said softly, nuzzling close, nipping and kissing his way along Dean’s jawline. 

Dean’s heart was soaring. “Thank you,” he murmured in between kisses. “Thank you for marrying me.”

Cas smiled. “Thank you for loving me.”

Dean shook his head in amusement. “Ass. You..." He stroked Cas’ cheek, soft eyes smiling down at him. "…you're everything to me." 

That beautiful smile melted over Castiel’s face, the one that made him positively glow, and then Dean found himself being kissed. 

And in that moment, Dean knew without a doubt that it was true. Here, wrapped in Cas' arms, he had everything. When he was with Cas, he was home.

 

**~fin~**

**Author's Note:**

> Cindy is Dean's dance partner in my verse 'Carry On', where Dean also dances. I crazy love her, so I chose to use her here rather than another character from the show.


End file.
